Chapter Text
Severus groans as he returns to consciousness, lying on the floor at Spinner's End, head pounding mercilessly. He's not exactly sure what day it is. Wednesday, perhaps? He just knows that he had gone on the bender to end all benders starting on Saturday, the worst day of his life. September 15th, 1979. Lily's wedding day.
He passes a hand over his eyes, rubbing the grit away. Something tickles his chin and he opens one bleary eye to identify the culprit. He shoots up in disbelief. A loop of bright crimson encircles his wrist. Apparently, he has a soulmate. Fuck.
Severus remembers asking his mum about the greyed piece of string that she always wore.
She’d smiled wistfully, telling him that it had been red—that it meant she once had a soulmate out in the world, her perfect match.
A soulmate is the one who loves every part of you, even the dark and twisty bits.
Her explanation echoes in his head while he stares at his new accessory. Fat lot of good it did him now, considering the only woman he’d ever loved is now married to that prat, Potter.
If it isn’t Lily, he doesn’t want her.
Once through the passage leading to Knockturn, Severus pulls his hood tighter in a most-likely futile attempt to hide his identity. Cursed beak of a nose, he thinks bitterly.
He spies the nondescript door in a tight alleyway, just as described by Rookwood. Pushing it open, he squints in the dim light as his eyes adjust. He hears a rhythmic whirring deeper in the shop but is unable to see the cause.
“Hello?” he calls.
“Come in, child,” a soft, feminine voice says. “I’m almost finished here.”
Severus bristles a bit at being called a child but cautiously steps inside.
The room is eerily empty, his footsteps leaving prints in the dust as he walks toward the figure sitting inside, a spinning wheel before her. He observes in silence as the treadles slow and the contraption comes to a stop. The thread on the bobbin is a bright, bright red.
He clears his throat. “Are you the one they call Arachne?”
“Who's asking?” She turns towards him curiously and he feels bare under her knowing gaze.
“I’m an… acquaintance of Augustus Rookwood. That’s all you need to know.”
“Ah,” she murmurs, suddenly looking sad. “Then I know why you’re here.”
Arachne pulls some shears from her belt. Refusing to meet her eyes, he stares at the ground. She gently takes his hand and he flinches at the feeling of the cold steel against his wrist.
“If you do this, you'll be alone for the rest of your life.”
“Do you promise?”
A minute passes. “I don’t think you realise what you’re giving up,” she says. “So I’m making an exception. If you change your mind in the future, come find me.”
“I won’t,” he snarls.
SNICK
Grey string falls to the floor.
Somewhere in Wembley, the infant Hermione Granger wails.